Fallen King
by Lady Seraphina Lightwood
Summary: A battle takes the life of Narnia's High King. T for slight violence. Golden Age, no slash.
1. Chapter 1

So, this is how I'm working around writer's block with Broken. I'll post Narnia/Edmund/Peter one-shots to keep my brain working. :P I hope you enjoy.

The POV switches around a bit through this, as there's no specific one. It will, however, always be either Edmund or Lucy, sometimes both, at least for the first part.

**Read this part to understand the story and who they're fighting. **This battle is with Fell Beasts that have joined together and assembled their own army. No, it's not as big as the Narnian forces but they have dangerous creatures and are still deadly, causing this to be a very risky battle. It takes place five years into the Pevensie's reign, making Peter eighteen, Edmund fifteen, and Lucy thirteen.

**Warning**: Character Death

**Fallen King**

Edmund stood beside his sister, holding his body slightly between her and the army, disappearing over the ridge. This was sweet Lucy's first battle in two years, and despite her protests, he would keep her sheltered from as much as possible, to the best of his ability.

He watched them disappear, releasing a long sigh, foggy in the wintry air. At the top of the rise, even with the shelter of the boulders dotted about, the wind whipped viciously at their faces. The first drops of rain fell. Lucy shivered, and Edmund wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to his side.

"Oh!" Lucy suddenly gasped, tearing away from his side.

"Lu? What are you doing?" He started forward.

"Oh, _Edmund_, we forgot to wish Peter good luck!" she cried, and tore off over the ridge, down after the army.

Instantly, Edmund was after her, grabbing her by the arm.

"Get back here!" His tone was fierce as he pulled her back to where their healer, a female centaur named Ehren, and a soldier, a faun called Rensom, were waiting. "Are you mad, Lucy?"

"I just wanted to say-" Lucy tried to defend herself, blue eyes wide.

"This is a battle," Edmund practically growled. "You'll follow orders. You asked to come along, Lucy, we granted you that, but you must follow orders. Understand?"

Looking dejected, Lucy nodded.

He sighed, face softening a little. "It's for your own safety and the safety of the Narnians going into battle."

The four of them waited wordlessly as the air grew lighter. A bird lifted from a tree and struggled against the biting wind. Lucy looked to her older brother, worried by the darkness that shadowed his gaze, and wondered if this was how he always was in time of battle.

The enemies would be rising by now, stirring from their beds, leaving their tents – unaware of the fury about to unleashed on them. She felt a stab of sympathy, but tried to remember all that the White Witch had done to them. They must be defeated if Narnia was to survive. This was a battle that had to be fought.

The rain fell harder now, cold and sharp, feeling almost like tiny knives against their skin.

A shout of warning suddenly ripped the air, ending with a loud, choked gurgle and the sound of a sword clanging against armor. Lucy's eyes widened, causing Edmund to pull her closer into his side, murmuring words of comfort that were scattered and disjointed.

Suddenly, the air was full of sound. Lucy recognized the war cry of Oreius, the thundering hooves must belong to him also.

Edmund noticed that Ehren had closed her eyes and was muttering to herself, words falling from her lips too quickly and quietly to hear.

Was she praying to Aslan? Suspiciously, he leaned closer, only to hear she was reciting cures for battle injuries.

Beside him, Lucy shuddered as reality hit her.

"Was that Peter?" she breathed as a furious cry carried over the wind.

The clash of swords was her only reply.

Edmund paced, peering over the rise in a vain attempt to see the fighting. He reeled back as a centaur came running.

"Please, come quickly," said the centaur, the name of whom was lost on both Edmund and Lucy, "General Oreius has been wounded."

Edmund stiffened slightly at Lucy's side, even as she laid a calming hand on his shoulder. "Oreius?" He sounded…. surprised.

"Chest wound," the soldier said, eyes flicking between Edmund and Lucy. "Bleeding badly. He needs to be taken away but he won't let us. Only other option is Queen Lucy's cordial."

Edmund released a sharp breath and turned to his sister. "You have it with you?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go. Quickly." He turned to the healer and the other soldier. "Stay here. Ehren, we'll send a runner if we need your assistance."

Stay close," Edmund told Lucy. He darted out from behind the rock they'd been sheltering behind, after the centaur, out into the rain. She followed, keeping as close to Edmund as she could. The grass was slippery beneath his boots, causing him to slip once or twice, and Lucy's hood was whipped up over her head by the wind.

Without warning, the king halted. Lucy skidded to a stop beside him. They saw the slope drop away in front of them.

A steep slope led down to a big clearing. The sounds were much stronger now, and Lucy knew this was the battle clearing.

Eyes stretching wide in horror, she watched as the battle raged. Screeches and shouts ripped through the wind, and blood frothed on the ground.

Edmund didn't hesitate, just took off down the slope after the centaur, slipping and sliding quite a bit. Lucy stumbled after him, trying to pick out the Narnians, through the mess of colors and shapes, through the rain.

There! A Leopard was thrusting a white Tiger away from him with flailing hind legs, only to be set upon by two more; his claws shone and his teeth were bared. He twisted suddenly to protect his belly, fending off one with a shove of his powerful shoulders; but the other clung to him, and the Leopard screeched in rage, beginning to fight this one off as well.

Finally, all around she could see the red and gold of the Narnians, flashing against armor, torn flags fluttering in the wind.

A Dryad screamed as two wolves ran at her, their eyes wild. Her cry made a Cheetah spin around and race to help his comrade. He shoved one away with his shoulder, flipping him to the side, before sinking his teeth into the skin of another. Blood flew, spattering his face. As the Cheetah's eyes blazed and blood sprayed from his mouth, she had to remind herself he was just defending his country.

"Lucy, come on!" shouted Edmund, already running ahead, paying no attention to the battle other than to draw his sword and finish off a Minotaur running at him. His sharp order made her hurry after him.

Finally, they reached Oreius, lying on the ground with a deep wound in his chest.

"I will be alright with or without the cordial, my Majesties," he said, only a hint of complaint and pain in his voice.

"Don't be silly," Lucy whispered, feeling her eyes brimming with tears at the sight of the wound. She knelt beside him, taking her cordial from her belt, and let a drop fall into his mouth.

There was that tense moment of waiting.

The wound closed. Instantly, Oreius was getting to his hooves. "I thank you, my Queen," he said with a centaur's bow.

"Oreius, do you really need to be up yet?" Edmund asked, but the General was already off, disappearing into the thick of battle again.

Lucy glanced back at the battle, biting her lip. Most of the Narnians fought in pairs or groups – were the Fell Beasts so ferocious no one could face them alone?

A screech rang out and the same Leopard she'd seen earlier hurtled into view, fur wet with blood and dirt. A wolf ran after him, snapping and slashing at his tail.

Then came Peter, shoulder pumping blood, soaking his armor.

Lucy froze. At her side, she felt Edmund go still as well.

As their brother appeared, a Giant took notice of the High King and grabbed him in powerful hands, throwing him like a doll across the clearing, so he thumped into a tree. The Giant lumbered after him, but a werewolf was closer, and so lunged.

Edmund saw the shock on Peter's face as he landed and struggled to find his footing. But he just wasn't fast enough, nor was he any match for a werewolf. The werewolf pounced, ripping at him with teeth and claws.

_No! Stop!_

The Just King drew his sword and started to run to his brother, tripping over a bush almost immediately. He struggled to get up, trampled upon by Narnians and Fell Beasts who didn't notice him.

Still trying to keep an eye on Peter even as he struggled to stand, Edmund gasped as his brother landed a searing blow with his sword against the werewolf's side.

But the creature didn't even flinch. Instead he lunged again, and grabbing Peter by the throat, sent the king skidding backward across the blood-slicked clearing.

"No!" Edmund cried, finally managing to get up and running toward his brother again. _"Peter!"_

"King Edmund!" an officer grabbed him. "No, don't go down there. You'll never make it past all the Fell Beasts in this state of mind. Have you jarred your head?"

"Peter's hurt!" He stared at his brother, unmoving on the wet ground.

"The High King is just dazed and will get up in a moment, I assure you."

Edmund doubted very much that he _had_ a moment to spare.

"Peter!"

Distantly, he heard the leader call a surrender, a retreat. Fights were ending all around him, the battle was calming, but the only thing in his world was Peter, still lying on the ground.

_I have to help Peter_. Edmund tore himself from the soldier's grip, running toward his brother again.

"Ed! Wait for me!" Lucy was hurrying after him, but he paid her no mind, dropping to his knees beside the still man.

"Lucy! The cordial!"

Peter's eyes were half-open.

"Thank the Lion." Edmund took the cordial from his sister's trembling hands and allowed a drop to fall into Peter's mouth, but nothing happened.

He shook him slightly, but Peter only flopped backwards.

"King Edmund." Oreius's voice was soft, his hand gentle as he laid it on Edmund's shoulder.

Edmund's mind screamed denial as he looked up at the general. "Why won't he get up?" His tone was dazed.

Oreius shook his head. "You know why, my king."

"He's not dead!"

The centaur's gentle hand pulled him back as a healer came forward, lifting Peter's body into strong arms and carrying him away. Edmund struggled to get to Peter again, dimly hearing Lucy's sobs, but Oreius wouldn't let him go.

"Please don't struggle, you will hurt yourself. King Peter is gone. You will not help him by doing this."

Edmund struggled for a few seconds longer… and then everything was fading away in soft blacks, blues, and purples, all washing away to black. He went still, slumping in Oreius's hold.

"Oreius?"

Lucy heard Susan's frightened voice as she hurried forward, seeing Edmund cradled firmly in Oreius's strong arms.

"Is he hurt? Do I need to get a Healer?"

"No," Lucy whispered, "He's not hurt, he's fainted. Peter is dead."

Susan's expression crumpled, filling with grief. "No," she cried. "Oh, Peter."

Oreius was stoic as he continued past her. Lucy stayed behind, hugging Susan tightly as they cried together, but he continued, bringing his unconscious king to the infirmary. Across the room, he could already see King Peter laid out—they were readying him for a funeral. He would ensure it was the grandest funeral Narnia had seen in ages.

"Edmund, you must come." Susan was insistent on that, though her own face was tired and sad. "You must be strong. Peter would want that."

"I must ask you, sister, not to tell me what Peter would want," he said, but pushed past her none too gently and went down to where the funeral was to take place.

But as soon as he saw Peter, he froze. Rage bubbled in his stomach as he turned to Oreius, dark eyes flashing.

"Why do they have to make him look like he's asleep?" he cried. "He's dead!"

Susan rushed to his side quickly, before a meltdown could take place. "Shh," she whispered, holding him against her, "no one is trying to pretend Peter is still alive. We know, Edmund, we know. But he'll never leave you, Edmund. He's still watching you, as closely as he ever was, from Aslan's country."

"I don't _want_ him to be in Aslan's country. I want him to be _here_ with me."

And he cried.

_You said you would never leave me. Why did you die?_

**I'm willing to post an outtake in the form of a second chapter, of the funeral. Let me know if you want it. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

I was…numb.

Dimly, as if from a distance, I heard Susan's soft, musical voice. The original plan had been for me to deliver the eulogy for Peter, but she had decided I was incapable of it and had taken on that responsibility for herself. I sat now, tears burning a path down my cheeks, Lucy's arms wrapped firmly around me.

"Aslan, into Your paws, we commend Your son Peter, High King of Narnia, in sure and certain hopes of resurrection to eternal life in Your country…"

I whimpered.

Lucy's hand smoothed my hair. I heard her speaking to me softly. It sounded like she was soothing me. Well, too bad, only Peter could do that.

"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lion.

Yes, says the Spirit, they will rest from their labors for their deeds follow them."

The corners of my mouth lifted in a faint, bitter smile. The Narnians couldn't possibly know these words, couldn't possibly know that she'd taken them from – well, where had she taken them from? I couldn't remember the name of it now…

"Aslan, we thank You for those we love but see no more. Receive into Your paws Your servant Peter, and grant that increasing in knowledge and love of You, he may go from strength to strength in service to Your heavenly kingdom, through the Lion."

As soon as she was done speaking, Oreius was beside me, ushering me from my seat. In confusion, I looked to the graveside, but just couldn't understand why he was making me leave. Just the same, I allowed him and an elderly Cat, Xaliah, to lead me back toward the Cair.

"Why are you making me leave?" I questioned him. My voice was dull and tired-sounding…I would bet my face wasn't much better.

"For one," the Cat answered for him, settling back on her haunches, "you didn't do well on making yourself presentable for a funeral." She yawned. "Besides that, the good General didn't want you to hear the clods dropping on King Peter's coffin. He was right to do so."

Oreius tried to shush Xaliah. She didn't listen.

"Just remember, young one, that as long as you don't hear that sound, they're not actually dead to you. But once you hear it…" she shook her head. "It is the most dreadfully final sound in the world, I assure you. Oreius knows how you love your brother and he didn't want to make it worse for you than it already is."

My eyes were burning with tears again by this point. I tried to blink them back.

"I didn't think it would be so terrible for your sisters, King Edmund," Oreius said quietly. "Queen Lucy is, well, Valiant, and she will be strong enough. Queen Susan has a sense of motherly duty to sustain her."

Xaliah, to Oreius's annoyance, interrupted. "But you have nothing to sustain you, do you?"

"No," I said, staring at the ground blankly, "I never had anything but Peter and now he's gone."

"Some people," Xaliah told me, "can stand on their own two feet easily without anyone. You are not one of those people."

My head snapped up so I could glare at her, resentful of that comment, true as it may be. This Cat had never had an ounce of respect for anyone, and until today, I had enjoyed that, but I wasn't in the mood…

"Don't look at me like that. I know, King Edmund, that you will be much happier when you can go join your brother in Aslan's country, just as I will be happier when I may join my mate there."

I stated flatly,

"I would be the happiest person alive if I could join my brother right now."

* * *

[A/N] Uh oh…Edmund doesn't really mean that, does he? Let's hope he doesn't do anything foolish. I'll be taking this a little further, we'll just have to see what I do with it. So many possibilities in my head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

White…everything was white.

That's what Peter Pevensie opened his eyes to. A stark white color that invaded his eyesight, and he was unable to see anything else. Then that faded.

He was in a forest. This forest had the most beautiful vivid coloring he'd ever seen, more so than Narnia and much more so than that washed-out Other Place.

Muted pawsteps behind him caused him to turn, and he found himself face-to-face with the Lion.

"Aslan." Peter knelt before Him.

"My child." The Lion's breath stirred his hair, a warm velvet nose pressing against his forehead in a lion's kiss. "Rise, Peter."

And Peter stood before him. Even Aslan seemed to have more coloring here than He did in Narnia. He was bigger, more golden, His mane a rich red-gold.

The Lion's eyes were amused but rather sad as He regarded Peter.

"It was not your time to leave your country."

"But I died, Aslan."

"So I saw. But you were killed in the wrong way, dear one, and in this battle I had not intended your death." Aslan stepped forward, and once more pressed His nose to Peter's forehead. "You will return." He breathed into Peter's skin.

Instantly, his eyes drooped as sleepiness stole over him.

"Return now, dear one. My Narnia still has great need of its King."

And Peter slept.


	4. Chapter 4

**[A/N] This chapter is dedicated to my beloved horse, Chekoteh, who passed away this Saturday. He's grazing in Heaven's green pastures and is in the hands of God/paws of the Lion now, though my sweet Buttercup is grief-stricken over him, being left behind. **

**Part 4**

"Ed?"

Peter leaned over his sleepy brother, touching his cheek.

"Mmm….what is it?" Edmund opened his eyes slowly.

And he promptly froze, dark eyes filling with tears.

"Ed?" Peter sat on the edge of the bed and reached to put an arm around him.

But he found himself pushed away, so sharply he nearly toppled off the bed.

"_No!" _

Edmund buried himself under the covers, shaking hard, and again Peter tried to touch his back. But his little brother was having none of it.

"You're not real…so…so get out. You're just a _dream_."

"Ed, I'm not, I'm real. I swear. Aslan brought me back."

"I said get out."

Peter, bewildered by Edmund's rejection, rose from the bed. Something in him screamed that he should stay with his brother, comfort him, but if Edmund didn't want him there…

"No," Edmund cried now, flinging off the covers and reaching for him. His expression was broken. "Peter, don't…"

Peter drew the younger boy close and held him while he cried.

**Short one but I want to focus on **_**When It Rains**_** and **_**Go Where No One Can Hear Me**_**. If you haven't already, please go check those out and leave me a review?**

**Only one chapter left after this.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

Edmund woke to the feeling of arms around him. Slowly, he opened his eyes, fighting a panic. Who would be holding him now that Peter was…?

First, he saw Lucy and Susan, sitting and talking to whoever was holding him. So it couldn't be that bad, could it? If the girls knew them.

He looked up into his brother's face.

Immediately, he jumped up, appalled. _Impossible. _But all the memories of last night, Peter's return, his own sobs, returned to him in a rush and he found himself backing up, so quickly that the small of his back connected with the doorknob. He barely noticed the sharp pain.

"Ed?" Lucy was up, reaching for him. "Oh, Edmund, it's all right. Don't you see, everything will be fine."

"…Eddy?" Peter slowly rose from the bed and stepped toward him. His arms were out too.

"How did you come back, Peter?" The iciness of his own voice surprised him.

Peter stopped, a look of hurt and confusion in his eyes. "I…Aslan did it. I'm not sure how. I woke up in my room." When Edmund's expression didn't change, his own was like that of a bewildered child. "I just wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure you were okay….is something wrong?"

Rage lit his insides. He wasn't sure why he was so angry with Peter, but he was, and it poured out.

"_Is something wrong? _You _died!_ You left me _alone! _And you know why you died? Because you wouldn't let us-" Here he gestured at himself and Lucy, "fight with you. We couldn't_ save_ you."

Something in him, a voice in the back of his mind, murmured dimly that this was ridiculous, that he had fully agreed with Peter on Lucy not being a part of this battle, that he had agreed to stay and watch her in the safe area, but he didn't care.

"I'm sorry. Ed, I'm so sorry-"

"_Sorry? _Sorry doesn't cover you dying! Sorry doesn't cover you not letting me help you!"

"I was trying to protect you and Lucy, you know that-"

"You did a terrible job! A _terrible_ job!" Something inside him cracked. His voice rose. "You knew there was a chance you'd be killed, you always knew that, and what did you expect to happen to me if you did? I would've died if the girls wouldn't let me. You _left_ me. You didn't protect _anyone_, Peter, you failed in that!"

Peter didn't try to defend himself anymore, but just stared at the ground. Tears blurred Edmund's eyes. He knew he'd crossed a line, because one thing you didn't do was criticize Peter's ability to protect his siblings. He couldn't bear seeing Peter so hurt, especially not when he was the one hurting him. But if he stayed here, tried to repair the wounds, more hateful nasty things would come from his mouth, so instead he turned and strode out of the room.

* * *

Lying on the ground by the river, Edmund glared into the water.

He had never realized how very upset he was with Peter for abandoning him to Aslan's country. But seeing him _alive_, grief set aside, he saw what was under it and the rage rose to the surface.

Since he was small, Peter had been _his_. His brother, his friend, his confidant, his protector. At least until the nightmare that was boarding school. For Peter to leave him, even in death, was too much for him.

"Edmund?" The voice was soft, familiar. He glanced up to see Susan. "Do you mind if I join you?"

He shrugged. She sat beside him on the ground, and brushed a small hand through his hair. Edmund closed his eyes.

"Did Peter send you after me, Su?"

"No. I came on my own."

"Why?"

"I wanted to see that you're alright, of course. But I suppose you aren't…" When he didn't say anything, she sighed. "Don't you want to talk about Peter? I thought you missed him."

"Of course I missed him!" Edmund was beginning to realize how his outburst must have looked, especially to overly sensitive, sweet Peter. "I just – I've been so focused on him being dead, how much I did miss him, but I never realized how angry I was that he left me like that. How could he _do_ that?"

"Well, you think he did it on purpose? He didn't set out to die." Of course Susan was right. She usually was. "You didn't have to upset him so."

He lay there in silence for a moment.

"I suppose I should go find him."

"I think you should."

Another moment of silence, then he stood and offered her his arm. She rose and accepted the gesture with a slight smile.

"Let's go find Peter, then."


End file.
